


Pain is So Close to Pleasure

by ursoself-satisfying (catbusfurrever)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bohemian Rhapsody, Bromance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Queen - Freeform, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Walking In On Someone, deaky has to wait, rog is a dick (jus a lil), stealing the covers, theres a cow, using someone elses bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 19:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbusfurrever/pseuds/ursoself-satisfying
Summary: Deaky REALLY misses you, and you show him a new way to ease that pain.





	Pain is So Close to Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> i take requests n im active on tumblr!! find me @ursoself-satisfying !!!!
> 
> John Deacon x F!Reader SMUT, non-verse specific 
> 
> A/N: ITS JUST BARELY 9 PAGES LONG good luck also I wrote this as the unofficial sequel to my other roger fic that you can read here!!! ((hopefully the link works))
> 
> Warnings: nsfw ofc, phone sex again, walking in on someone, rog being…rog, ITS RLY LONG

John “Deaky” Deacon shoves his hand into his jean’s pocket and digs around through the jingling change left behind from past lunch meetings and arcade trips. He pulls out a handful of lint-covered coins and counts out the proper amount for a call back home by carefully moving them aside one by one.

Standing miles away from the farmhouse recording studio currently occupied by Britain’s most hysterical band stood a single lonesome phone booth sandwiched between a telephone pole and a pile of hay. Inside said box, the bassist of the aforementioned hysterical band dropped two nickels into the coin slot with a soft clink. He then picks up the rough handled blue phone and leans back against the glass opposite the booth’s sliding doors. With his nose scrunched in gross weariness, he dials the number he intends on calling, pressing down each worn and no doubt germ covered button with a ginger finger that lingered no longer than it had to. Once finished he ran a hand through his frizzing hair and waited, listening to the dial tone harmonize with the cows he could watch grazing outside.

There was a click of a phone picking up. “Hello?”

“Hello, love.” John smiled widely and leaned forward to the phone, looking down at his feet. He took a shaky, excited breath and adjusted his jeans.

“John! My goodness, how are you, darling?” The voice on the other end was young and spritely, seeping with joy from receiving his call.

John closed his eyes for a moment to absorb the woman’s reaction happily. “Oh, I suppose I have been better but I’m doing alright. The boys keeping busy or rather, well, Freddie is keeping us busy.” He bounced against the surface behind him as he spoke, “You remember Freddie? He’s the lead singer of this new band I’ve joined. They’re all a bit, uh, much, but in the best way.”

His conversation partner laughed, “Well, darling Deaky, no offense, but compared to you I think most people would be a bit much.”

“Oh? Do you find me boring, [Y/N]? Should I wear more furs and have more fits?” Though joking, there was an undertone of insecurity beneath the sarcastic tone.

“John, please-” There was a gentle laugh from the woman on the phone that the man held against his ear. As he heard it, he grinned. “I like you just the way you are. I just- Oh, I don’t know, I don’t want to sound-” there was a pause as John assumed she was searching for a word, “-matronly, but I do worry about you. Not that I don’t trust those lovely little rockers that you’ve shacked up with, but just that- you’re so far away and I miss you and you just like things so specific and-”

“And you’re not with me so you worry.” He finished nodding his head the same way he does everytime he hears this from her, which has increased in frequency over the past few weeks.

The phone was silent for a moment. “Am I too much, too?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” John laughed, “but it usually ends well for me when you are so I can’t say that I mind.”

He could hear her sigh. “I’m sorry, dear, I just miss you so much. It’s been months! I’ve been stagnant for months, John! It’s unbearable! I miss you! I miss hearing you play those little tunes into the small hours of the morning and waking up next to you on the couch and, hell, I even miss your damn morning breath!”

Deaky smiled softly, “Really? Is it that bad? It actually hasn’t been months, love, it’s only been about five weeks-”

The partner let out a guttural groan that interrupted him. “I don’t just miss you, John, I need you!” Before he could respond, a cow knocked its head into the telephone booth. It trembled under the movement. The cow then treated the musician inside to the traditional greeting of their kind, a loud sonorous ‘moo’.

“…Deaky, where are you?”

Startled and physically shaken by the cow’s interjection, John stared the creature in its large round brown eyes, like huge marbles full of harmless thoughts. “Uh, I, uh, I’m in a phone booth in a field down the road from the house.” He spoke its location like he expected her to recognize it. 

“Well, what the hell are you doing out there, love?” chuckled the voice that echoed from the small speaker of the phone.

“[Y/N], there’s a…a cow.” It seemed to stare back and recognize the situation. Then the animal bounced its head and took a mouthful of hay from the stack beside the booth before slowly waddling away from the scene.

“A cow? Did you say hello to her for me?”

The question grabbed the shocked man and pulled him back to the moment. “Uh, no, I was a bit- a bit distracted. Sorry, love.” He furrowed his brows as he apologized for now completing the odd belated request all while keeping a more watchful eye on his surroundings, especially noting the cows.

“It’s alright. Anyway, darling, you were gonna tell me why you were miles from the studio wasting your change on a public phone.”

“It’s not wasted, dear. I’m paying for my privacy. The boys, I mean God bless them, but they have no concept of personal boundaries.” He spoke through his teeth as he not so fondly reminisced about the most recent escapade that had taken over his dank basement bedroom.

“Please tell me how much privacy a glass box in an open field gives you.” The woman countered.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, but after a very ‘recent incident’ with Roger getting a bit too comfortable in one of the recording booths I realized two things: just how much I’ve missed you and that if I wanted any peace with you I would have to get out of and far away from that damn house.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that very ‘recent incident’ another time, but, um,” There was a pause. Deaky blinked his dry eyes and sniffled. The voice did not continue.

“Love?”

“Well, darling, I had an idea but I’m not going to suggest anything if you’ll be calling me from a phone booth in the middle of nowhere from now on.”

John frowned and cocked his head, curious but cautious. He straightened up before replying, “And what’s this idea of yours can’t happen in a small, stuffy, confined, and exposed public place?” The mischevious grin plastered across his face gave the impression he certainly had an idea of what the idea was. He was correct in his unspecified suspicions, but he wouldn’t find this out until a while later.

There was a loud honking that overwhelmed [Y/N]’s reply and forced John to spin his focus from his call to the irritable interruption that was a devil drummer on four wheels.

“Deaky! C’mon, man! We spent hours looking for you! We’re here to fucking record, not prank call Freddie’s cats!” Roger was leaning out the driver’s window of a long van, waving his arms and smacking the door with an open hand. “Well? Get in, let’s go!”

The bassist rolled his eyes. “I’ll call you later, hopefully,” he said into the phone and hung up without waiting for a response, hoping the situation was obvious to the woman on the other end given how obnoxious the van man was. He yelled after him, “Asshole!”

“Months, John, months!”

“You’re closer this time, love- just over a month.”

You groaned and flopped into your desk chair, turning your head to look out the window. Streaming through it was cold morning air, crisp enough to wake you early on a weekend. Outside, cars parked along the curbs and two kids racing down the street. You envied their childish freedom. “The apartment is so empty without you here.” Sighing, you picked up a photo lying in an open book on your windowsill. Deaky had a wide goofy smile spreading from cheek to cheek as he squinted at the camera with you nestled closely against him, though your face was half covered by his hair. “I’m lonely, John, baby. With you and the boys gone, the clubs are no fun and nothing seems to sound as good as you.”

“I can understand that.” You pictured him saying that with a sad smile to contrast the memory you held in your hand.

“Deaky-” You took a sharp breath and picked up on your conversation from about two weeks ago, “You aren’t in that awful little box again are you?”

“Box-? Oh, you mean- you mean the booth, no, I’m back at the farm, unfortunately.” There was a sheepish pause, “I ran out of change.” You laughed. “It’s not so bad right now, though,” he continued, “the boys are busy with the crew and hopefully they won’t notice I’ve slipped out. What were you saying, love?”

“Oh, right, yes,” you jumped back to your thoughts, “I don’t know ‘bout you, but in your absence, I’ve had,” pausing, you considered your wording, “cravings, certain urges, desires, things I’ve been dealing with but, God, it’s so much better with you and all I need-” Heat pooled in your shorts and you shifted in your wooden chair. Your breathing was heavy in the anticipation of your proposal, “All I need is your voice.”

John was red in the face. He knew exactly what she was referring to doing and suddenly had flashbacks to the no longer recent ‘recent incident’. Glancing at the dining room door from his place standing beside the phone in the hall and he knew he had to find somewhere to go. He thanked God everyone was distracted by the post-all-nighter celebration of completing their first song for the new record that had carried on into the current early morning hours. It’s not that he was just as happy and proud of the band, but he wasn’t such a social person and he’d been distracted since his last call to [Y/N].

Uncomfortably pulling at his tightening jeans, he finally responded, “Oh, I- I mean, I feel the same way. I miss you so much, my love. I’ll admit I’m not free of sin myself, you are always on my mind.” He took a deep breath and tapped his foot on the carpeted floor anxiously. “I, uh,” rubbing the bridge of his nose, he squinted before throwing his head back and confessing, “Since the whole Roger ‘incident’ I’ve been a bit on edge.” Planning his escape route, he scanned his surroundings and continued, “I could really use a little stress relief.”

He could hear her laughing, but it gradually turned from an amused to an aroused reaction. “I’m ready when you are, darling,” she said.

Deaky gulped, grinning excitedly. “Just- Just give me a moment, dear, I’ll call you back in just a minute!” He hung up and ran to peek inside the dining hall. Upon seeing the festivities still in full swing, he felt safe enough to creep to the basement.

The sounds of Freddie yelling cheerfully, followed by the equally enthusiastic echo from the small crowd traveled through the tight halls of the country house. They dulled the further the bassist got from the source but they were replaced by something else, something that worried him a bit as it seemed to get louder the closer he got to his sublevel room.

Yes, he was certain now, those were moans and giggles coming from behind his very own door. Deaky clenched his teeth, closed his eyes and took a deep, furious breath before slamming the door open on the people inside. Roger jumped and stumbled over his pants pooled around his ankles. He fell or more likely was kicked down in front of the bed on which lied a frazzled looking woman, frantically and unsuccessfully pulling the sheets up to cover herself. The blonde on the floor scurried to pick up his discarded shirt and do the same.

Deaky looked on in disgust. “C’mon, Rog, you couldn’t keep it in your pants, or at least your own bed? One night, man!” He flopped his hands on his thighs in exasperation. It was no less than inevitable that Roger would ravish his lover as soon as he’d snuck her in. John couldn’t complain (not about that, at least, but about his defiled bed? Yes.) as he was using the party upstairs as a similar excuse to enjoy some time with his own significant other.

“Oh, yeah?” Roger finally spoke as he struggled to stand, “‘Cus it looks like I’m not the only one who can’t keep it down, huh?” Motioning to the ever-growing tent in John’s tight pants with a snicker. The curly haired musician scoffed at his opponent and rolled eyes. Turning and walking out, he left one comment, “Oh, just get on with it, but you can’t be mad when you find what I leave on your pillow!” Roger yelled back profanities before slamming the door and resuming with the lewd sounds.

Worried he’d left his own lover waiting too long, Deaky sprinted up the stairs, praying, though not as quiet and private, that a room upstairs, specifically that son of a bitch Roger’s, would be open. Just because Roger wasn’t in his room, didn’t guarantee no one else was. Instead of opening doors, in fear of encountering the same scene from downstairs, he pressed his ear to against the finished woods. He thanked heaven and hell there wasn’t another soul upstairs so no he could finish off his own wood.

Roger’s temporary bedroom was larger than Deaky’s basement bungalow but up here the walls were plaster instead of brick. Locking the door behind him, he raced to the bed and dialed his lover again. Before she could even pick up, he’d unbuttoned his starry black shirt and then pants. A sigh of relief followed his freeing of his erection as it slapped against his stomach with a soft pat. With the discomfort behind him, he finally realized just how much he needed this. When the ringing stopped his eyes lit up. “Finally.”

Your fingers threatened to push aside the thin layer of panties covering your wetness as you sat by the phone still, anxious for your other half to call back. Several more minutes passed as you remained, marinating in your own aura of frustration and need. With your shorts hanging over the armrest of the chair you sat in, you waited. It was taking too long for Deaky to call back from his room. You were a bit worried something had happened, nothing big, but there was a bit of party going on and maybe- Oh, you knew John would never do anything bad. Hell, he couldn’t make you mad at him if he tried. Sometimes he’s a bit frustrating, like right now, but he always makes up for it. He’s attentive and aware. He remembers things like this and you love him for it.

The phone rang and you thought you felt your head hit the ceiling. You jumped and lunged for it. “John?”

“[Y/N]!”

You shrieked with delight and relief. “Thank God, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would last.” Laughing softly, you settled into your seat and felt the tension roll off you in waves as you body relaxed hearing the comforting voice on the other end.

“You won’t believe what I’ve had to do. Well, maybe you will, it’s Roger, there’s little he won’t do, but I can fill you in on that later, dear! Just know he won’t be sleeping well for the next week if I have anything to do with it.” You unconsciously groped at your breasts as you listened and shook your head lightly, trying to imagine what Roger could have possibly done to upset your dear Deaky so much. “I just really wanna get on with this right now.” You could hear his heavy breathing and you pictured him already aroused, wherever he was. “I don’t know if I’ve ever needed you so much before this.”

Heat rose to your face from your core, and it wasn’t from the sun shining on you from your place by the window. The hairs on your arms stood up and you shivered as a wave of arousal shot through you as you pushed the cloth covering between your legs against the nerves of your clit. “God, John-” You laughed softly, filled with an overflowing love for the man willing to step out of his comfort zone out of the love and loyalty he had for you. “So, uh, what’re you wearing?” In your most sultry voice, you asked the cliche question.

John laughed on the other end, “I’m still dressed. Should I not be? I’ve got my favorite shirt on, the one you got me.”

Smiling softly at the sentiment, you replied, “The one with the little stars? That’s my favorite, too. You better take it off, just for the sake of the mess we’re gonna make.” You bit your lip.

The soft sounds of fabric sliding against his skin and the specific clicks of annoyance he makes when struggling with a button were heard. “Might as well join you,” you said, pulling your shirt over your head and slouching to let your stained panties drop from your knees. Using your foot, you kicked the limited piece of clothing in the air, not caring where it landed. “I’m ready for you, John.”

There was no response for a moment, just breathing. “I bet you look like a dream. Where are you?”

“Home,” you giggled, “where else would I be this early?”

“That’s true, I suppose. You’re there by the window, aren’t you?” Deaky knew the layout of your apartment by now, he practically lived there.

“I am, in fact.”

“You look so pretty when you sit there, like an angel with the morning light coming in from behind you,” he grunted. “Perfect.”

The noises he made only turned you on more. Letting your fingers wander, you soon found yourself gasping at the sudden cold appendages you thrust into your hot slick entrance. The puddle of sweat and arousal growing beneath you was cold and unforgiving against your dry skin as you shifted for better access your center with your thumb putting pressure on your clit. “Tell me what you’re doing,” you whispered.

Your companion shakily answered, “Just- Same thing as you, I hope-” He was shy to use the words you were expecting, so you prompted him.

“Are you touching yourself?” Your voice was low and quiet as you spoke to him. There was a rustle on the phone. “Darling,” you smiled softly and closed your eyes, “if you’re nodding, I can’t see you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m touching myself, too,” you said, “I’m so wet, John. It’s all for you, because of you.” This must have awoken something in him. With two fingers pushing deeper in your pussy, you moaned. You imagined John sprawled out on a bed, hand moving rapidly up and down, pulling for his release.

“How many?” His question surprised you as much as it excited you.

“Two.”

“Make it three.” You moaned as his command. It drove you past a point of no return. He was never like this. You weren’t sure you had ever heard such any words drip with sex the way those three just did. Of course, he didn’t even have to be physically there for you to melt for him. You were nearing your release, you could feel it in the fire blooming in your belly and the sweat spreading on your forehead. You still held the phone to your ear with your clean hand. Three digits were now pushed inside your hole. You couldn’t stop the pleasant sounds from vibrating through you as you scissored the three fingers in use.

Images, from both fantasy and memory, raced through your head., filthy images of John’s wet hair pushed back when fresh out of the shower, the little trail of hair leading your eyes down his fit body before the towel dropped. Then there was him looming above you, a curtain of curls surrounding his face as he smiled and leaned in to kiss you, or the soft roundness of his lips when he finishes with you, foreheads touching, breathing in sync. He was so…perfect, in so many ways.

After a minute of simply enjoying the erotic sounds one another made, you felt the tea kettle of your arousal whistled at you with a piercing volume. “John, I’m-! Fuck-!” Wetness gushed past your fingers as you came, your juices dripping off the edge of your chair and collecting on the floor. You threw your head back and let out heavy haunting gasps. You pulled your pruned fingers from the fountain between your thighs with a whimper, immediately craving the missing feeling. The intense pleasure blanketed you as you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the phone, holding it against your chest which rose and fell quickly. A sudden soreness overtook you along with a wave of tiredness. Your body was limp slumped in your wooden chair and you exhaled slowly, your hot breath a release of your worries and stress.

John was laying horizontally across the bed, having pulled the phone to sit at his right. He held it close to his face and listened to his lover’s hot breathing. Her moans brought him a feeling that flowed from his stomach straight down. She was there, in front of a window of all things, behaving so wickedly all for him. He felt on top of the world. With his free hand, he stroked his shaft, pulling to the tip and bringing his natural lubricant down with him each time. He squeezed near the base and let out a breathy moan before picking up his speed. His eyes were closed contently as his thoughts were overcome with pictures of her.

[Y/N] was hot and heaving, wanting for him, only him. Beneath her, he waited to be ravished. He imagined her fingernails dragging down the hair on his chest and tracing each nipple before she would settle her weight on his lower half. His hand was a poor substitute for what she gave him. Focusing on it hard enough, he could practically feel her around him, completely encasing his length. He wished he was hilted in her, pinned down flat against him. Her hands on his face, in his hair, stroking, pulling, caressing-

Bubbling up inside him was his final release. Not quite there, but it was on its way. John’s breaths were sharp and shaken as he let the voice on the phone consume him completely. He was engulfed in the throaty groans of hers that traveled through the telephone wire just to get to him. She made him feel like he was alone with just the two of them, no skeevy sounds coming from the room next door, no party raging below him, and certainly no blonde gremlins defiling his basement bedroom.

“Fuck-” she moaned.

His bubble of pressure popped and overflowed. That was it for him. Her perfect cries ended his need. Arching his back, John dropped the phone beside him and let out a strangled groan as his hands worked furiously on his solid erection. Words came out in increments and he rolled to his side and came, spurting streams of relief onto his chest. From the tip of his cock, his cum came hot and fast, pooling in the center of his abdomen as he laid limply back. It took him a minute of silence to release it all and let the frozen look of finality melt off his face. It felt like every ounce of tension had escaped him. He listened to the beat of her heart through the phone, his chest rising with her.

“John?”

He’d nearly forgotten his call. The musician sat up quickly and pulled the phone to his ear again, comforted by the voice he responded to, “I’m so sorry, love, I just-”

“It’s ok!” She interrupted, “I did, too.”

“I wish I was there to see it, to see you. God,” the bassist sucked in a deep breath then let out a gentle laugh, “I guess we really needed that, huh? I really miss you.” The last part of his statement was soft and intimate, almost needy.

“I miss you, too, darling, more than I’ve ever missed anyone else before.” She laughed, “I swear it almost hurts.”

“Oh, well, we definitely can’t have that, can we? Has this made you feel any better?” Deaky smiled sheepishly, “I certainly feel better.”

“Mm, I do. We should do this more often.”

He’s glad [Y/N] couldn’t see his pathetic grin just then as he recalled the disturbing discovery he’d walked in on earlier that night. “We can certainly try, dear.” John looked down at the mess dripping down his chest, already having left drops of off-white against his brightly colored pants. “I, uh, think I’d better go now, darling.”

“You know, me too, love. You really left me a mess.” She laughed and John snorted, imaging the kind of things she left behind by that window. His cock twitched at the thought and he stuttered a response.

“I- I think I’d really better go before another ‘incident’ happens.” He heard her whine. “Really, I don’t wanna be seen like this, not by anyone other than you.” He smiled, “I love you so much, my darling, I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

“Alright, if you promise.” He chuckled at her response. “I love you, too.”

“Bye, love.”

“Bye, John.”

[Y/N] hung up first. Deaky set the phone back and sat on the bed in silence, listening to the soft thump of music still humming from below him. He bounced a bit and looked around the room for the first time, not in a lust driven frenzy. Roger hadn’t decorated nor, apparently, had he cleaned. The long-haired man stood up and scanned around him for something to wipe the remaining love left on him off. He pushed his frizz out of his face and ultimately ended up using the shet off the bed, already having been soiled, to clean himself up. The cold finally reached his exposed appendage reminding him to button his pants back up before leaving. John paused a moment in thought, considering what he might do to get Roger back.

After grabbing his shirt and ripping all the coverings off the bed, leaving only the bare mattress behind, Deaky wrapped them around himself and waddled back down to his room, less stressed now about being seen. The sheets dragged on the floor behind him as he took each step to the lowest floor of the house slowly. He was grateful to find Roger and his partner had left his room, left it a mess, but still. Using his foot he pushed the top layer off his own mattress and sat down, still coddled in the bedding from Roger’s.

John smiled to himself as he let his mind wander in his moment alone. He thought of [Y/N]. He thought of how lucky he was to have her, someone who could bring him to do the things he did tonight. He’d enjoyed himself, thoroughly, and he’s never had someone before who he loved so much, needed so much that he would hide away in his bandmate’s room for them. He laid down on the bed and let himself bask in the warmth of the stolen layers and relive every glowing moment he could remember of her.

 

Roger banged angrily and loudly against the locked basement door. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice echoed through the house that night. “It’s freezing outside and I have no fucking covers!”

Deaky laid inside a cocoon of the covers Roger was yelling about. “You’ll just have to keep each other warm tonight, I guess. Certainly wasn’t a problem for you this morning.” The bassist gave a cheeky grin no one could see, buried deep in the soft cotton layers around him.

“You’re a piece of shit, you know, Deaky?” Roger yelled again and punched the door one last time for good measure.

“At least I didn’t leave anything on your pillow!”

Roger scoffed and stormed away, flipping off the basement door before he left.

Deaky grinned and hummed happily, snuggling further into his warm, soft bed. It was a very comfortable night for John and for the first time in weeks, he slept like a baby.


End file.
